Bricks in the Wall

by _NAME_

Chapter Zero: The Show?

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…we came in?”

There was silence drifting in and around me. It was a sort of deafening, permeating silence that eludes all but the most unlucky. I sat in that silence, in the frigid night air, feeling the phantom embrace of another pony beside me, warming my bones.

Soft spoken words slipped through my mind, like the fleeting memories of a dream moments after you wake up, disturbing the silence. They were words of a different time, of a different place so far away I had trouble remembering if it were real or not.

‘I love you,’ those words said, ‘Everything will turn out alright, you’ll see...’

The silence slowly faded back in into the forefront, though it wasn’t quite as deafening as before. I felt a soft, warm bodypress up beside me, though I knew that there was nopony there. A pair of moist lips pressed against the side of my snout and the presence shifted away, causing the cold to seep back into my body. I raised a hoof to where the evanescent kiss touched my snout, absentmindedly stroking it.

A hoof suddenly tapped me on the shoulder and I twirled around to see my manager, a short, tan pegasus. He was saying something; I could see his lips move, but I couldn’t hear him through the silence’s roaring din. Regardless, I nodded in agreement to whatever he was saying, and, seemingly satisfied, he patted me on the back and trotted away.

Abruptly brought back to reality, I looked around the hallway I was sitting in the middle of. The hall was empty, save for a few ponies hurrying back and forth through it, carrying boxes of equipment with them. I’m sure they had something to do with the concert they were setting up for. My concert, I reminded myself. Pink Floyd, the world-renowned musician’s greatest hits tour across all of Equestria and several bordering countries.

I was on my fifth performance and was already feeling drained.

I vaguely remembered somepony telling me that tonight’s show had sold out within days. So many ponies wanted to see me sing, to hear my songs. It was almost uplifting enough to drown my sorrows in.

But not quite.

One of the roadies, tied up in a jumble of wires, nearly walked right into me, but sidestepped around me at the last second. He glanced behind him, a scowl crossing his face, and continued on his way.

I sighed and stretched out a bit more, letting my gaze drift back to the floor. The roadies were probably pissed at me, for sitting right in the middle of one of the offstage corridors, but I made no move to get up. Damn them. They could move around me. Do them some good, I expect. They had perfectly good hooves. I didn’t care.

I hadn’t cared for such a long time.

I ran a hoof through my frizzy graying mane and groaned, blinking my tired and old eyes. There had been rumors floating around, in trashy gossip rags, that I had lost my spirit, my touch. Rumors that I was just another spent rock star going through the motions, just to feel somewhat whole again, to try and relive some of those glory days, and that my shows had lost their luster.

Was that true?

It might've been. There have been times, more recent than before, that I wished I could just be plain old Pink again, not this Pink Floyd stage name that all my fans know me as. If I had known all those years ago, in that tumultuous foalhood, how tired I would be now, I might've never gotten as far as I did. Pink Floyd, the celebrated voice of Equestria, was always in constant demand, and Pink, the bland, tired, aging stallion, never seemed to have time for himself any longer.

Was it irony that I was turning gray like my stage name had always said? That's what floyd meant, after all.

The silence that had oppressed me earlier had all but dissipated, blinked off in a moment, and through the walls of the hall, muffled chanting reached my ears. “Pink! Floyd! Pink! Floyd! Pink! Floyd!” My persona turned into a mantra that could only have been sung by my fans out in the stadium. It was nothing I hadn’t heard before at any other show I’d done, but something about it piqued my interest. I clambered to my hooves and walked unsteadily to the main stage.

I hesitated at the stage door for a moment before pushing past it. The level of noise that hit me almost sent me reeling back into the soundproof hallways, but I pressed past it, and trotted into the wings of the stage. The stage itself was a hub of activity. Ponies of all sorts bustled to and fro making sure everything was set up for my concert.

Yet, the level of energy on the stage was greatly surpassed only by the audience out in the stadium. A heavy curtain separated me from the crowd that was roaring out my name in a vain attempt to get me out on stage sooner.

I peeked out from behind the drapes at the mass of ponies out in the field only to stare in amazement. The stadium was packed to the brim with ponies of every size, shape, and color, who swayed back in forth in some unknown, yet communal melody. I could pick out one or two zebras, and even a donkey packed into the crowd as well. The pegasi and griffons controlled the air, flitting back and forth above the heads of the crowd, some even lounging on clouds that drifted over the field. Harsh arena lighting spilled over the throng of bodies, accentuating their already harsh, vibrant coat colors to something that was almost unbearable to look at.

So many had turned out for the show tonight. My show, I chided myself again. Every single one of these ponies had shown up just to see me perform, as though they didn’t have anything better to do with their time. They all looked so carefree, so innocent, laughing and enjoying life as ponies nowadays did. Not like my generation. I never had a chance to live my life without threat of the return of war looming overhead.

As I gazed out over the mass of colorful ponies beyond the stage, one mare in particular caught my attention. While the rest of the audience seemed preoccupied with the prospect of the show that was soon to start, this mare’s striking clear blue eyes were staring straight at me. A knowing grin was plastered on her face, as though she knew it was me peering through the curtains, though I knew nopony could’ve identified me.

Pink.

This mare’s coat, though matted with sweat and dirt, was almost as pink as mine was. Pink just like my mother’s was. The mare’s curly and darker pink mane hung limply at the sides of her head, weighted down with sweat, though it didn’t appear to bother her very much.

Oi, Pink!

The mare blinked, her smile growing even wider, if that was possible, and waved in my direction. I gulped and took a step backwards, disappearing from view. Maybe she did see me. I peeked back around the curtain, but the mare had turned away and was chattering away excitedly to the ponies around her, nearly vibrating with energy. I could still see her bright blue eyes lingering in my mind, though. Eyes like that had never seen any disappointment, felt any pain or seen the darker side of life. They were innocent eyes.

My own dark and troubled eyes hadn't been that light and airy in a long time.

“Pink! Oi, Pink!” A hoof grabbed my head and forcibly twisted me around to face its owner, my manager, Short. “Pinky,” he sighed, “Oh Pink, wha’ am I gonna do with you?” His tan hoof griped me tightly as he led me away from the curtains. “You feelin’ alrigh’ to do this show, Pink? Celestia only knows wha’ goes on in your head nowadays…”

We stopped walking and he glanced at me, concern in his eyes. “You are alrigh’, ain’t you Pink? I’m askin’ as your oldes’ friend. We need ya up an' at 'em tonigh’.”

I breathed in, and then met his gaze. “Yeah, I—“ My voice cracked. “Yeah, I’m a-alright... Just… Thinkin’, you know?”

“You think a lot, Pink. “ He smiled. “Just… You remember the set list an' all?” I nodded. “Alrigh’y then. We’re on in a few, so get ready, mate.” He patted me on the back and trotted away, leaving me alone in the middle of the stage.

I glanced, almost longingly, back at the curtain that separated me from the rabble outside, and then shuffled offstage to go get ready. There once had been a time, long ago, that I had had costuming and makeup people for me and my band mates. Nowadays, I didn't bother with any of that crap. I didn't want any of it.

Some poor, skittish-looking stagehoof was waiting for me just off to the side with my outfit for the night clasped in his hooves. All I ever put on these days were a pair of dark sunglasses and a leather coat. It was something.

Forcefully taking the two items from the colt, I slipped on the jacket with practiced ease, and then clipped the sunglasses onto one of the front pockets. The jacket, which did little to counteract the cold night air, was mostly just for show, a remnant of my youth, and a concession to Short. The sunglasses, on the other hand, were very much for my own benefit.

I took a deep, deep breath, and then let it out.

It was getting time to start. Most of the ponies that had been on the stage had cleared out by now, and the stage manager was making his final rounds. From out of the wings, from one of the dressing rooms, I'd imagine, came in the rest of the musicians that would be performing along with me tonight.

As they filed past, a few of them glanced at me, varying degrees of emotions crossing their faces as they did. I couldn't recall any of their names. Not anymore. These live shows involved so many different ponies that I could hardly keep track of them anymore. None of them were around when I first began to put out albums. None of them were my original studio crew. All these new ponies cycled through so often that I didn't keep track of them any longer.

I nodded absentmindedly at a few of them that met my gaze, and fell in behind them, following them back to center stage. They took their positions by their instruments, checking that the roadies had set everything up right. We had a large cast of instruments for this show tonight. There was the usual repertoire of guitars, drums, keyboards, bass, but there was also an entire orchestra situated off to the left, and some other instruments strewn about the place.

There was going to be a lot of noise coming from this stage tonight.

I stood near the back and waited for the inevitable to begin. Everypony sounded off that they were ready and looked at me for confirmation to continue. I nodded and motioned for us to start the show.

Anypony left on the stage that wasn't in the band scurried off, leaving a startling lack of bodies where there were so many before. The stage manager gave a quiet countdown, and then the stage plunged into darkness.

There was nothing for a few seconds.

Scattered coughing. Shuffling of hooves. The roar of the crowd.

I drew in another shaky breath.

The curtains parted, revealing the colorful crowd beyond, which seemed to almost instantaneously grow even louder, cheering my name, as the stadium lighting dimmed to a dull glow.

Of course, though we could see them, they couldn’t see us. Without lights, the stage and the band was obscured in blackness. Artificial smoke began to roll off the edge of the stage, covering the first few rows in a dense fog. I could make out a few ponies shifting and struggle to see through the sudden fog, hoping for a glimpse their idol, or even just the band. But I knew that they couldn’t be able to, just how I liked it. If it were up to me, I would perform the entire concert under the cover of darkness, an impenetrable barrier that separated me from everypony else. But it wasn’t up to me. Nothing was anymore.

Still, beyond the front rows, I could easily see the faces of ponies lit up by the dim light. They all looked so eager, so carefree, just like the pink mare from before. They were all like this, these days, so innocent and pure. They hadn’t lived long enough to have their spirits crushed, and to be ripped to pieces by the uncaring hooves of fate.

They didn’t know. They lived their lives in the moment, and it was only until you were older do you realize you can’t do that. I almost envied them; it wasn’t fair.

Innocence is something that, once lost, you can never recover, no matter how much you struggle to make things right. Nothing could ever remove the scars of the past. Nopony could fill the gaping hole where you once held on to the fleeting grasp of hope.

Ponies today are much too sheltered, too privileged. None of these stallions and mares watching the stage with eager anticipation had lived through any sort of troubles, any sort of war, like I had. Sure, they learned about it in their schools, but they could never understand how it mercilessly ripped away everything I, and this nation, loved. They wouldn’t ever know.

It wasn’t fair.

I scowled, and somewhere on the stage, I could hear a stallion muttering a count-in to the first song. I knew I should probably be getting ready to begin the show, but I couldn’t bring myself to it. That musical spark hadn’t been there all night. I wasn’t in the mood to do this, but I would try my hardest anyway.

As the stallion’s voice hit two, the orchestra behind me began to swell for the intro to the song. Amateurs. They couldn’t even start on the correct number; they jumped the gun by a full two seconds and probably threw off the rest of the band’s timing. I couldn’t even trust these ‘professionals’ to perform properly. Though, to be fair, there wasn’t much I trusted in these days. Believing in something always led to shattered promises.

I shook my head, clearing my mind in anticipation for the crescendo that would lead to our eventual reveal. The spotlights would flash on, chasing away the pleasant darkness, presenting us to the crowd. The throng out there would then cheer madly, despite being blinded by the spotlights. It was the same at every show I did.

No deviation.

No changes.

Unsteadily, I strode out into center stage, still under the cover of blackness, the band stepping forward with me, like clock-work. Hastily, I pressed my sunglasses on my snout, covering up my slate gray eyes. I knew the rest of the band was doing likewise behind me, though for a much different reason. They had their shades because I wore them, and nothing more. For me, they dulled the bright colors of the world. The vibrant blue, green, yellow or white colors of ponies were too sunny, too cheerful for me to stand. Their contented faces, smiling and cheering at me only chipped away at my soul, leaving it even emptier than before. I suppose it was a cruel twist of fate that my own coat was one of the brightest shades of pink imaginable and I had to live with the daily reminder of the lighter side of life, knowing full well that I could never live there again.

Behind me, the orchestra became a soft whisper, and stopped altogether. A lone trumpet sang out over the air, filling the empty spaces.

The crowd hushed in anticipation for what was to come next. For a moment, the entire world was steeped in silence and I felt my breath hitch in my chest. Unsteadily, I stood up on my hindlegs, flailing my forelegs out above me. The pose was difficult to hold and not at all natural for a pony body, but I endured it purely because I knew if I didn’t do it, Short would chew me out later.

I shut my eyes, swaying slightly and allowed myself a small smile. Just a small one.

It was then the drums behind me began to pound, the organ blared, the guitarist struck a chord, and our barrage of sound began. The lights surged on, revealing the stage and the band, and the crowd erupted as the concert truly began.

Everything had to look seamless for the crowd. If I was to do this, it was going to be perfect. Nothing out of place. Nothing hidden. They couldn’t see how much was wrong with me. They couldn’t understand. If there was even the tiniest of cracks in my wall, everything would fall apart.

Pyrotechnics erupted around the edge of the stage, momentarily drowning out the crowd’s cheering. Sparks skidded across the floor, alighting around my hooves as the band around me thundered into the opening song, like a sort of musical exodus.

I gazed out over the crowd in those few seconds, looking over the mass of color. The griffons and pegasi flittered about in the air, whopping in delight, weaving around the jets of fireworks in the air. The earth-bound creatures’ reactions were similar, as was to be expected, though they were too tightly packed together to do much moving. My stomach churned at the frivolousness of it all. It was sickening to see their fucking faces, so full of wonderment. These foals wouldn’t be able to handle pain or anguish, not like I had.

It was almost unfair to them, wasn’t it? Having such relaxed lives was almost a sin.

I frowned and fell forward, my front two hooves landing squarely on the wood stage with a thud. I flinched inwardly at the discordant sound and strode forward to the microphone. I sensed a few of my band mates following suit, coming to the front of the stage. The audience was still roaring their approval, not even a minute into the song yet, and not even to the first verse. Pathetic.

I grasped the mic with one hoof, recalling the lyrics in my head. I paused, scanning the crowd from behind my glasses, my eyes hidden from the world. Emotions concealed from the masses. There would always be a division between me and the fans. They would never know the life I led, and I could never hope to know theirs. A chasm separated us, and all they could do was gaze longingly across and hope that they catch a glimpse of what they believed was the good life.

Idiotic fuckers. They didn’t understand anything. So many of these foals wanted to make it big, and I knew that all of them would never achieve their dreams; it was a lost cause. They would struggle through their entire lives just to try and make it into the limelight only to discover none of it was what it cracked up to be.

There were some days my limbs felt heavier than lead, the painful memories were too much and I couldn’t get out of bed. Those days, I would break down, sobbing my eyes out like I was some helpless, senile bastard. I would lay there in my bedroom, hardly moving, even to eat, for the rest of the day wallowing in my self-pity.

None of it was what it cracked up to be.

A flash of pink in the front row caught my eyes. The mare from earlier was not four feet away, staring into me with her large, blue, unwavering eyes, her face split in a wide smile. I flinched away from her gaze and shut my eyes again, drowning out the harsh colors of the crowd of ponies.

Why did these ponies care about me? They only loved me because they liked the music I had produced years ago. If I hadn’t created music, if I never had done anything with myself, if I ended up on the side of the road without a bit to my name, if I ended up going insane, they would never love me like they do now. They wouldn’t even give me the time of day if not for the fact I made it big, and they would go on with their lives and cling to a different star. It was repulsive the way they followed public opinion like a mindless herd of sheep. In my day, we had to make our own way. We had nothing to cling to for hope but our own aspirations.

So why did I care for these fans of mine? Why did I continue to perform for these bastards day after day after day? It wasn’t a question I knew the answer to. What would happen if I just stopped everything, if I stopped the show? What would happen if I showed these ignorant little shits the dark side of life for once? I didn’t care if they couldn’t handle it! These ponies probably haven’t seen an honest day of work in their lives, let alone know anything about the cesspool of a world they really live in.

I could tell them, show them, something that would open their minds and maybe dull their vibrant colors a bit. I could take them down a notch and bring some real misery into their lives. I could strip away their innocence.

But could I?

My gaze drifted to the ground as I silently argued back and forth with myself. My days were filled with concerts, singing, and pandering to a crowd of ponies that went to sleep with their minds at ease and a smile on their muzzles. My nights were restless, and whatever sleep I got was plagued with dreams filled with twisted memories of my past. The ponies in the crowd were a sea of color and joy that flocked to this show to see the dull, faded, lifeless pony they loved perform songs composed before they were even born.

A wave of resentment washed over me. There was no way I could continue to do this. I didn’t care about these fans, I realized with a small amount of satisfaction. I owed nothing to these idiots or anypony else.

There was nothing holding me back from walking offstage right then, but I stopped myself. I still felt as though this audience needed to know something, anything, which would blacken their clean souls. I felt the need to educate them on the subject. It was for their benefit, really, I suppose.

I looked back up at the crowd, at their smiling faces, and felt my anger begin to boil even more. Oh yes, they would hear me out, whether they wanted to or not.

Soon enough, the point in the song where I should have begun singing came and went, and I still was standing there, clasping the microphone. I noticed my band mate's concerned glances in my direction as they began to improvise some music, hoping that I would sing soon and continue the song.

I wasn’t about to.

Truly, I had lost all interest in my music long ago. It had taken me until now to realize it. My soul wasn’t in it any longer, and that realization filled me with both terror and excitement. My entire life was filled with music; it was my special talent, after all. To lose my faith in my calling was frightening, but brought about a certain thrill of rebellion and freedom that most ponies would never experience.

We ponies lived in a society of monotony and compliance, where a pony would do only one job their entire lives, their special talent, the mark of which was obscenely emblazoned on their flanks for all the world to see. A cake cutie mark? You get to be a baker. Oh, you wanted to work in construction for a living? Who would employ a construction worker with a cake for a cutie mark over one with a saw or some nails? When you got down to the semantics of cutie marks, it didn’t make much sense. We lived in a society where a pony’s life was forever determined by a single point in their foalhood, before they even matured. It seemed like we lived free lives, but in reality, we were slaves to our own pre-determined destiny.

I glanced at my own cutie mark of a half-red, half-white record.

Red and white makes pink, I suppose.

I always knew that the record on my flank was for the music I created when I was younger, but why it was split into two colors was mystifying. I had spent many a night since the mark appeared pondering what those colors represented, to little avail.

I suppose it was the split between me and the rest of the world.

I could hear murmurings of confusion break out all throughout the crowd, bringing my attention back to the present. The audience could sense that something was not quite right with the performance, that the lead singer obviously wasn’t performing the song. I could see their multi-colored faces scrunch up in a mix of disappointment and bewilderment as they realized that something in their perfect lives wasn’t going to plan for once. I chuckled at the sight, only to have the microphone broadcast my gruff laugh throughout the stadium.

As my laugh echoed around the stage and audience and into the night above, I smiled a wide and crazy smile. These worthless sacks of shit that dared to call themselves ponies, with their happy demeanors, and bright colors, and guiltless faces ignited a fire in my belly. I hated them with every fiber of my being. I wanted to see their faces as I filled their heads with tales of woes and miseries and sins and made them realize that the cheerful world they lived in was a lie.

I considered it my duty to tell them, to poison their young minds the same way my generation’s was ruined by war. It was the least I could do for them.

This thought coursed through my mind, filling my body with a vigor I hadn’t felt in years. I gazed out over the crowd, my muzzle still split in a wide grin. My band behind me slowly ground to a halt as it became evident that I was not going to be singing. Oh, but by Celestia, I was going to be doing so much more than singing. I would make this crowd realize that everything wasn’t sunshine and friendship in the land of Equestria.

“So, what?!” I bellowed into the microphone, my face distorted in rage, “What, you shitheads thought you’d like to come to this show?!” My voice resonated in the suddenly silent stadium. The crowd had gone mute, shocked into silence by my sudden outburst. Even the rest of the band had completely quieted down, unsure whether or not to go on. I grinned madly as I felt the crowd’s anxiety and confusion start to grow as they realized their night wasn’t going to plan. The emptiness inside my own soul felt a bit fuller as those innocent, clean ponies own souls were beginning to darken.

My eyes were drawn to the pink mare once again. Her unwavering eyes were starting to tremble in confusion as she continued to gaze at my rapidly deteriorating form. I turned my attention back to the rest of the crowd. “So you all want to feel this warm thrill of confusion?!” A hoarse, half-scream, half-laugh escaped my lips. “Ha! You wanted to feel this warm, fuzzy glow?!”

I could only imagine what I looked like to these guiltless minds as I began to prance around the stage, my face twisted in madness. A few of them might even consider me a tad… insane. I laughed at the thought. I think I went insane a long, long time ago. The dam inside my head only chose this moment to finally break open.

I moved closer to the edge of the stage and the front few rows scuttled backwards in fright, nearly crushing those behind them. I could already see the pegasus and griffons taking to the air, leaving the stadium for good. Cowards. Weaklings, the lot of them. They couldn’t even take some unscheduled shouting and degradation.

“Tell me!” I shouted out over the crowd, “is something eluding you, dear sunshines?!” I glanced at the mare again, an almost predatory sneer plastered on my face. She shook visibly as my eyes fell upon her and her frizzy mane quivered with her. “Is this not what you fuckers expected to see?! What, did you expect a show tonight!? Hehhhehehehehhh! That time has long passed, my sunshines!”

I could see the ponies at the very back of the stadium began to dart for the exits, nearly trampling their fellow ponies in the process. It was almost beautiful. I could see and feel their confusion and fear. They couldn’t wrap their tiny little heads around why their idol was yelling at them.

Fight or flight. So they ran, rather than face any sort of difficulty.

I spit into the audience in disgust, showering the front rows and continued yelling, my mannerisms growing even more erratic. “Fuck you all!” I roared as I paced around the edge of the stage. “Fuck all ya! None of you know anything about what it’s like to really live! If you wanna find out what’s behind these cold eyes,” I ripped my glasses off of my face and flung them into the audience, “Then you’ll just have to claw your way through this disguise!”

I reared up on my hind legs, whinnying, and chucked the microphone at the pink earth pony mare in the front row. It hit her snout with a force that sent her staggering backwards into the ponies behind her. I grinned a maniac’s grin and snorted at her pain. She looked at me for a moment, one of her hooves rubbing her rapidly bruising face, her blue eyes growing damp as tears rose to the surface. She glanced around for a means of escaping the area, but there were still ponies packed in around her. They couldn’t even run away properly. It was sad really, this generation.

I felt a hoof on my shoulder and twisted around to find my manager and the rest of the band behind me. Nearly all of them flinched when they saw my expression, when they saw all the pain and suffering etched into my face. Short, my oldest friend, the only one who might understand my pain, cautiously approached me. “Pink…” he began, “Why don’t you calm down a little, alright? This has gone far enough. We can still patch this whole thing up, if you jus’… don’t fuck it up anymore.”

He forced a smile onto his face that faded just as quick as I didn’t respond. He didn’t care about me apparently. I thought he might, but… He just wanted his pay and to downplay whatever bad press this concert would bring. I had hoped he would… But he didn’t care, just like everypony else. He belonged with the other fuckers out in the audience.

I glanced behind him at the other nameless faces that made up my band, all of them looking on in worry. They didn’t care either. Nopony ever cared about me.

Short took a hesitant step forward, reaching out with one of his hooves. “Pink, I-” He paused as three loud knocks echoed around the stage. “Come on Pinky, buddy, it's time to go…” He tried to grab me, but I sidestepped him, a scowl forming on my face. He lunged forward in another attempt to trap me but I leapt away from his reach.

“Fuck you too!” I yelled at him as he continued to try and catch me. “You’re no better than the rest of these bastards!” I gestured at the crowd that still remained in the stadium. I danced around him and shoved him, sending him careening off of the stage.

In my anger, I knocked over one of the many speakers scattered on the stage, sending sparks scattering across the wooden floorboards and a high-pitched feedback whine shooting through the ears of anypony in range. I smiled at the damage I was causing and slammed another speaker into the ground, causing smoke to start spiraling out from its inner workings.

As I turned away, I could hear whatever stagehooves remained shouting in alarm as the speaker burst into flames. I could feel the eyes of everypony in the stadium, my former band mates included, on me as I continued my frenzied breakdown. I dodged another attempt by somepony to subdue me and shunted them to the ground. I heard something snap and a howl of pain broke through the cacophony of noise being produced by the panicky audience members.

I cackled and twirled about the stage, grabbing some poor roadie and spinning him around. “Turn on the lights!” I ordered him, “Let’s set up this show! Haha!” I flung the roadie away from me and rose up on my hindlegs, flailing my forehooves wide. “Get those cameras started up! Roll the sound effects!” I landed back on the stage, evading another effort to stop me. “Aaaaaanndd! Action! Haahahaha!”

I lunged forward suddenly, thrusting myself into the face of the pink mare who was still trapped at the front. For a moment ice blue and dark gray eyes stared at each other, pink fur melded together, and dark brown and bubbly pink manes brushed together.

And then it was broken as she scrambled away, desperately wanting to escape. She tried to force her way through the tightly packed crowd, but to no avail. Not so lucky today. Luck, ha! Luck never occurred in the real world. These ponies in this crowd knew nothing, so it was only customary I told them everything.

“Ha!” I screeched at the crowd, “This is my story, sunshines!"

"This is the story of Pink!”